


give up, 'cause the best part is falling

by nosecoffee



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Amanda Has Blue Hair In This One, Canon Compliant, Comedy, Completely ignoring the whole 'universe is falling apart' thing, Dirk's Signature Quirkiness, Doing Strange Vaguely Dangerous Things To Solve A Case Is Now The Family Business, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humour, I forgot that Todd had pararibulitis so it's only mentioned once, Life Threatening Antics, M/M, Nudges At Book Antics, One (1) Jack Whitehall Reference, Palm Reading, Post Season 2, Referenced Past Relationships, Romance, The Ongoing Game of What Of These Objects Is Mona?, bed sharing, cases, casual shaming of the state of Pennsylvania, i just want fluff with no consequences, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-08 03:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13449519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosecoffee/pseuds/nosecoffee
Summary: "A fork.” Todd says, because that's what it is. He's holding a fork.“Ah, but this is not just any old fork. No.” Dirk says, and grins. “Watch this.” He pulls at the end with the prongs and the rest of it begins to get longer until he's holding a fork that's about twenty three inches long.“It's an…extendable fork.” He says, because there's really nothing else to say.“Yes. Spot on. Nice detecting Todd.” Dirk looks delighted, waving the extended fork around with wild abandon. “Anyway, I have a hunch it will be useful in the future so I bought it while in line at the chemist.”(In which Todd and Dirk and Farah try to settle into every day life and manage to do a spectacularly bad job at it)





	give up, 'cause the best part is falling

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Distance" by Christina Perri

They stick around in Bergsberg for as long as it takes for Farah to fully recover. She protests, telling them to go and fix everything up back home ( _Home_ ) and she'll call and tell them when she's good to come back. She has company. They don't have to worry.

They worry.

Dirk limps around for a while, loses his crutches during an altercation between an old lady in the supermarket and the last watermelon, and smiles his sunny _I've just solved a case_ smile. See, if Todd had had any prior knowledge as to how Dirk acted during cases and between cases he would've realised that once the solving had finished, Dirk practically _glowed_.

So he walks around Bergsberg with Dirk, talking nonstop about how wonderful everything is, and has Todd smelt this flower, and has Todd pet this dog? Mona joins them, sometimes, when she's stopped being a dandelion seed floating in the wind, speaking with her weird voice, cocking her head like a child. She is truly somehow weirder than Dirk.

Tina recovers from her wounds, first, having been shot the least. And then a week after Hobbes and Farah are both released, under strict instruction from the doctors to not exert themselves. Which means they're on their way back to Seattle, soon afterwards.

And once back in Seattle, once settled back into his shitty apartment at the Ridgley, Todd, Farah, and Dirk set up the agency, and they start looking for cases.

~

The agency is a nice change of pace. It really is. It's a welcome change. It's the change Todd needed. The change that has effectively punched him in the face and told him to _take control of your life, goddamn it._

Todd doesn't think that he would've done anything worthwhile with his life if the universe hadn't thrust him and Dirk together. Todd doesn't think he really wants it any other way.

He finally has a job he enjoys - that's a thing to tell his parents, he's holding down a steady job that pays well and, _no, I don't know where Amanda is but you guys can stop paying off her debt now, it's okay._

So, everything's not _quite_ okay, but it's as close to okay as it's going to get.

Farah thinks he just needs to loosen up. Dirk suggests a holiday, but none of them are really interested in that. It's just okay. Okay? He's okay.

He just needs a case to distract himself with.

Todd’s just okay.

(So, yeah, he staples some guy's tie to his desk because the guy asks Farah to go buy him a sandwich, and Todd will not fucking stand for that, and, yeah, he spills their coffees on the way to the office on a regular basis, and, yeah, he's the happiest he's been in literal years, but he's only okay.)

He thinks maybe being just okay might be _okay_.

~

Todd seems angry about something. Or maybe annoyed. Or frustrated. Or, for that matter, any number of negative emotions. And Dirk can’t think of why. It can’t be all that bad to be in an especially small closet in their office, in order to convince a client that Farah is alone.

Dirk certainly isn’t complaining.

Through the little gap between the door and the doorframe he can make out the shapes of Farah and the man, and can hear their conversation, muffled a little, but clear enough. Todd huffs a disappointed sigh. Dirk rolls his eyes.

“Why did you want to meet with me alone here?” Farah asks, quite diligently, as the man, the client, shifts a little. “I’m not even a permanent part of the agency, you should talk to Dirk.”

The man grunts, and Todd leans closer (maybe not close enough) to Dirk, probably to make out what they’re saying better. “My case is a matter of great personal importance. I’d prefer as few people knew about it as possible. From my observations of your agency, you seem to be the only member I can trust with my case. Are you sure we’re alone?” He asks, shifting uncomfortably again.

“Yes, I am. What you have to understand is that _Dirk_ is the detective. Todd and I are just assistants. _I’m_ barely an assistant. I really don’t think you’re talking to the right person.” She say, and he makes out her figure resting against the nearest desk, Todd’s, covered in paperwork and all the boring things.

Dirk’s desk has been decorated (Todd says ‘taken over by’ and ‘invaded by’) with little colourful trinkets, things like jewellry, or sideshow prizes, children’s toys. Things that took his fancy. Which is far more interesting than Todd’s paperwork.

“What are they doing?” Todd whispers.

“Shhh!” Dirk responds, and he watches the man’s head flick up in fear.

“You’re certain we’re alone, Ms Black?” He asks.

As though telepathically connected, both he and Todd slap a hand over each other’s mouths, to silence even their breathing.

Farah seems far more unnerved now. “Y-yes?” Dirk thinks she probably didn’t mean for that to come out as a question.

And something truly frightening happens. More for the man more than Farah, though he doesn’t doubt she’ll be shaken.

The man pulls a gun, and points it at her head. “Dirk Gently and associate, come out now, and I won’t shoot your friend.”

The only thing Dirk can think is ‘the man’s arm is going to hurt after Farah twists it and disarms him in the next two seconds’, and let’s go of Todd’s face in order to make himself useful to Farah, who, as predicted, has disarmed the man, and is looking pointedly toward the closet.

Dirk emerges, somewhat more clumsily than he intended, and gives the dismayed man a grin. “Hello! You're not being a very cooperative client, I must admit.”

He can almost hear Todd’s eyes roll into the back of his head from five feet in front of him.

The man frowns and yanks himself away from Farah, who takes his gun, shoving it through her belt. “I wanted to keep this between myself and a singular person I found trustworthy.”

“I'm afraid that you'll have to find all three of us trustworthy, if you wish to have us work for you.” Dirk tells him, hoping to convey a vibe that's something along the lines of _I'm not particularly impressed that you held a gun to my friend’s head, but I would still like to help you._

The man gives them all, hesitant, cursory looks, and then sighs, slapping an envelope down on Dirk’s desk. “Someone is blackmailing me.” He says.

Todd carefully picks up the pre opened envelope and pulls out a bunch of negatives. He raises his eyebrows and then holds one up to the light. He goes pale, a second later, and takes on an expression that says _holy fucking shit._

“Oh, geez, are you sure you what anyone to see these?” Todd asks, coughing, awkwardly, reluctantly taking out another negative.

The man shuffles, looking at the floor. “I don't know how anyone could have gotten these pictures, but if my wife finds out, our marriage is ruined.”

Farah and Todd share a look. “Dude, that's kinda your fault for cheating on her by holding what looks to be regular orgies, when you're not at home.” Todd tells him, matter-of-factly, and not particularly delicately.

The man goes a bit red. “I-”

“We’ll take the case.” Dirk says, hurriedly, seeing that this conversation could go sideways quite quickly. “Rest assured, sir, no one else will see these pictures.”

The man nods. Farah hands him back his gun, magazine in the hand behind her back. “Contact us if you have any further queries or if they contact you, again.”

“Thank you.” He says, sheepishly adding, “I'm sorry about the gun.”

“Don't bring it to our next meeting.” Farah says, and gestures for him to leave.

“Or any weapon, for that matter!” Dirk calls after the man as he speed walks out of the office. Once he's left Dirk hurries to Todd’s side, where he's pulled all the negatives out of the envelope and spread them out on his desk. “Did he seriously receive an envelope filled with old-fashioned pictures of his infidelity?”

Todd nods, finally letting out an incredulous laugh. “I feel like I'm in one of those old murder mystery movies where one of the suspects is being blackmailed with pictures like this.”

“I can't believe people actually do _this_.” Dirk isn't quite sure whether Farah means the pictured orgy or the photos of the orgy by “this”, but he doesn't bother questioning it. He just shrugs and grins at his friends, a feeling at the back of his mind nudging him closer and closer to this case.

~

The case Rodney Lewis left them, complete with incriminating photos and a letter written in magazine letter cut-outs threatening to reveal his unorthodox sexual habits, is not one of Todd’s favourites. After wheedling the location of the incriminating event out of Mr Lewis, they trekked over to it, and found themselves trying to figure out which window was the one the pictures were taken through.

Leading them to pay for a hotel room so they could continue this work. A lot less pull-of-the-universe with this case, but it was a case, and Mr Lewis intended to pay them, handsomely for it.

They get dinner at a small café down the road, and discuss how many windows wide the incriminating hotel is, how many windows tall, and which room matches up to which window. Todd’s head hurts.

They get back to the hotel room and Dirk sets himself up on the balcony - that's right, they paid extra for a balcony for your typical window math sleuthing - while Todd faceplants onto his bed.

“Todd?” Dirk calls and Todd groans _what?_ into the quilt, quite sure that the word is muffled, but that Dirk will still understand. “Is there any tea?”

Todd rolls onto his side. “You want to pay extra for tea?” He asks. “You _just_ had a milkshake with dinner.”

“Yes, I know,” Dirk agrees, setting his binoculars down on his lap (Todd hadn't been in favour of the binoculars but Dirk wouldn't let up), “but the universe says I should have some tea, and usually it compensates me for extra expenses.”

“Farah won’t be pleased.” It's an excuse, a shitty one at that, but Dirk’s attempt at puppy dog eyes has Todd getting to his feet with a scowl to check out the status on tea bags.

A few minutes later, Dirk has some earl grey tea steeping in his hand on his bed, reading the TV guide in his other hand, preparing to pour milk into his mug and soften the team while Todd is stationed out on the balcony, resuming Dirk’s position without the binoculars and with a chilled bottle of water.

He thinks maybe his brain is rejecting common sense and that's why he can't match up any windows to their clients booked room.

And then Todd’s phone rings, and its louder than usual because when he dropped his phone in the café earlier, apparently it turned his ringer all the way up. Dirk shrieks and drops his tea and the milk all over his lap and the bed, and Todd is so surprised he drops his bottle of water off of the balcony. He gives himself five seconds to mourn before pulling his phone out of his pocket and sighing as he picks up.

“What is _up_.” Amanda all-but screeches, on the other end of the phone. He loves her dearly, he truly does, but she has no sense of volume on telephones. “Okay, hey, I was calling to ask whether you're in town right now.”

“In town as in where?” Todd asks, leaning against the railing, and gazing down at the traffic below, pointedly ignoring Dirk’s vaguely pained gasps of _oh, dear, I was looking forward to that, oh, what a mess._

“Seattle, duh.” She huffs and someone blows a raspberry.

“Where else would I be?” He sighs, and taps his fingers on the railing.

“I dunno but cases could take you on wacky, week-long excursions to the fuckin’ Bahamas or some shit, so I had to check.” Amanda explains, oh-so-eloquently.

“Yes, we’re in town right now,” Todd replies, pinching the bridge of his nose and counting slowly back from ten in his head, “but we’re also on a case, and-”

“Todd!” Dirk decides this is the exact right moment to yell, in a panicked tone of voice, for Todd, and Todd, without impulse control, sighs, again, as he turns to look at his companion. His companion whose pants are around his ankles in what must have been an ill-fated attempt to get them off. He grins, sheepishly at Todd, and says, “Is there a washing machine here?”

“Hang on,” Todd says into his phone and then walks back into the hotel room. “How the fuck should I know?”

“I just thought - never mind.” Dirk says, dejectedly, and lifts the hotel issued towel to rub at the sheets.

“Oh my god, dab, don't rub.” Todd groans. Dirk stares at him for a second.

“As in the dance move?” Dirk says and in that moment Todd truly just wants to strangle him. He suppresses the urge. “Todd, I really don't think dancing is important at this stage in time. If you want dancing to happen, just do it yourself.”

“Is that Dirk?” Comes Amanda’s tinny voice on the other end of the phone.

“Tell me you brought an extra pair of pants.” Todd sighs, rubbing his face.

Dirk’s face crinkles, incredulously. “Why on earth would I have an extra pair of pants just floating around, Todd?” He asks, laughing a bit.

“What are you guys talking about?” Amanda asks, confusedly.

“Oh my god, what are they going to think?”

“Todd, it's not even that big of a stain-” Dirk says, his voice bordering on a worried tone.

“Where are you guys?” Amanda yells, and Todd is struck that she's heard everything they said but he hasn't answered her.

“Amanda, I'm gonna have to call you back.” He says, holding the phone back up to his ear and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What did you guys stain?” She asks, sounds amused and exasperated.

“It was Dirk’s fault,” Todd explains, watching as Dirk tries to dab at the sheets with his towel, “and he stained the bedsheets.”

“ _Your_ bedsheets?” She prompts.

“No, the hotel’s-” He clarifies, but that's as far as he gets before Amanda interrupts him.

“You went to a _hotel_ together?” She crowes. “I thought only people having affairs did that. Oh my god, did you secretly get married in the last few months without my knowing and are having an affair with Dirk?”

“No-” Todd splutters. Dirk gives him a strange look.

“You're right, that's much too convoluted.” Amanda replies, breezily. “So, when you said on a case, what you really meant was on _Dirk_. I get it. I'll give you guys some private time.”

“No, wait, that is nowhere near what happened.” He says.

“Sure.” Amanda laughs.

“No, really,” Todd insists, “he spilt some tea on the bed-”

“Of course, he did. Bu-bye, now!” Then it's just the dial tone in his ear. Todd swears profusely, and shoves his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.

“That sounded eventful.” Dirk comments, grinning smugly as he dabs at the sheets, as if his jeans aren't around his ankles.

Todd sighs and begins to strip back the bed, well aware that he's going to have to give up his bed for Dirk to sleep on now. “Amanda’s coming around, soon.” He says.

“Wonderful!” Dirk says, and Todd hits him in the face with a pillow.

“Take your pants for, properly; maybe room service will wash them with the sheets.”

~

The door squeaks open and Todd turns over, halfway, to look at it. In the doorway, stands Dirk, clad in his awful, ill-fitting pyjamas, holding a pillow with a grip that is much too tight.

“What's up?” Todd mumbles, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. Dirk taps his foot nervously against the floor. It's dark in the hallway. No one has replaced the lightbulb.

“Do you mind if I sleep on your couch?” Dirk asks. The question isn't that out of the blue, but Todd’s still waking up, so he allows himself an incredulous look.

“Did your bed catch fire again?” He says, peeling back the covers and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Farah said to call her the next time that happens. And maybe an exorcist as well.”

“No, no, I just…I couldn't sleep.” That's the most bullshit thing he's ever heard, and he hears himself speak on a daily basis. Todd dares to raise an eyebrow at him. “And I think I'd feel better if I…”

“You had a nightmare?” He butts in. Dirk scowls and closes the door behind him.

He rolls his eyes, the way he likes to when he proves Todd wrong, but there’s not cherry smile to accompany it, so Todd knows there is something wrong. “Obviously not, Todd, I already said I couldn't sleep-”

“Was it about Blackwing, again?” At this, Dirk finally goes silent and still, and it's plain as day on his face that that's what this is all about.

“...yes.” Dirk admits, slowly, quietly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Todd doesn't allow himself to sigh. He pushes the impulse back. “You don't have to sleep on the couch.” He says.

“No, really, Todd, it's quite comfortable.” Dirk insists, crossing to the aforementioned couch.

“Dirk.” Todd says, in the hardest voice he can manage while half asleep. He pats the mattress by his hip. “Just get in the bed.”

Dirk quickly strides over to Todd’s bed and climbs past him to get to the warm spot Todd made in the mattress by the wall, prior to waking up. He curls into the covers, shoving his pillow under his head and shoving Todd’s pillow away.

Todd’s not quite sure that this wasn't Dirk’s plan all along.

“Good night.” Dirk mumbles, and Todd just shakes his head and lays down next to him, hoping Dirk won't mind the way he curls around him.

~

Todd stares into the foam on the top of his coffee as if it could tell him the secrets of the universe. Like why on Earth Dirk was its favourite. Or why Dirk slept in Todd’s bed but wasn’t there in the morning. Or why Dirk always acted like nothing had happened, but Todd couldn’t forget.

Todd is so tired he’s asking coffee foam for answers to why he’s pining over a slightly-psychic sunshine man.

~

"So," Todd says, awkwardly, "what's the plan?"

"What plan?" Dirk responds. Todd turns his head with great difficulty to look at him.

"The plan to get us out of here." He says, in the most deadpan voice he can manage. It's a struggle with all the panic consuming him, currently. "Sorry, did you have another situation to get out of, right now? Is this ruining your schedule?"

Dirk huffs, and rolls his eyes, looking much more content than Todd feels, strapped to a spinning wheel that will surely be his demise. "You're awfully rude today." He comments, as if they aren't about five minutes away from certain death.

"I've never been a part of an involuntary circus act where I may or may not be stabbed to death in front of a live audience, so I'm a little nervous, yeah." Todd bites. Dirk takes a look around the tent, surrounding them. They're facing away from the rest of backstage so no one can actually see them, or hear them over the circus act currently in progress.

"The plan is Farah will save us." Dirk says, confidently.

More terror fuel for Todd. "Farah doesn't even know where we are. We don't even know where we are." He says, swallowing, desperately at the scream his panic is shoving up his throat.

"I just texted her our location and a whole bunch of exclamation marks." Dirk assures him, and now Todd sees his phone in the hand furthest from him, and his frantic one finger typing. It's probably hard to test when you're tied to a spinning wheel of certain death.

"May I remind you that the last time your plan was 'Farah will save us' it ended rather badly, that is to say, your shoulder dislocated, again?" Todd says, and shakes his legs to see if one of the ankle binds will come undone. Instead the wheel begins to spin, and Todd finds himself upside down, much to his horror and Dirk's mild amusement.

"Yes, I do have a lot of trouble with my shoulder, don't I?" He muses.

"Not the point." Todd groans. "What are these things called anyway?"

A moment of silence and the slow, methodical tapping as Dirk types the question into Google. "They're called...wheels of death."

"Are you fucking with me." Todd cries.

"Why would I do that?" Dirk questions.

"Oh my god." Todd did not think this was hoe he was going to go. He thought maybe a car crash, or alcohol poisoning, or something equally mundane.

"Look it's not like this will be actually life threatening, Todd." Dirk attempts to calm him, sound unbearably calm himself. "They're just bluffing."

"Why would they be bluffing?" Todd says. "We don't have anything they want. As far as they know, we were snooping, and, since they stole our wallets, they know who we are, so they know they're not killing anyone particularly important. They have nothing to lose if they kill us."

"Oh my god, we're going to die." Dirk says, finally sounding panicked. His wheel spins and he drops his phone, with a shriek.

"Now he gets it." Todd says, and someone begins to wheel them out onto the stage.

(They don't die. Farah comes swinging down from the top of the tent on a trapeze and saves them in just the nick of time with her fantastic ninja skills and they're quickly released, having the entire circus arrested on suspicion of murder and attempted murder, as well as theft from the local zoo. Farah later tells them that she's never even touched a trapeze before so they're damn lucky she didn't plummet to her death. They're all very thankful for this.)

~

Farah walks into the office at nine am, two days after the events of the circus and the wheels of death, stretching her sore arms, and the look on her face as she scans Todd, and then Dirk's empty desk is one that says absolute confusion.

"Where's Dirk?” She asks, stepping halfway into the kitchenette, seemingly to check for the missing detective. “Our day off was yesterday."

"Yeah, no, he's out today." Todd says, looking back down at his laptop.

"Why?" Farah says, looking slightly agitated. He's sure she just doesn't want to hear that he's been stabbed in the shoulder again. Todd sighs.

"Well, he found out that the bakery down the street had a late night sale on, last night, to get rid of all the pastries and stuff that didn't sell, so he went out there to get some." He replies, waiting to see if she'll put the pieces together.

"But it was raining, last night." She says, setting her things down on her desk.

"Yep." Todd agrees, backspacing the typo he made.

"And Dirk hasn't had an umbrella since that case with the statue of the dinosaur and the zipline." Farah continues, her expression darkening as the realisation hits her.

"Yep." He says, popping the ‘P’.

"Oh my god." She says, her voice muffled by her hands.

"He caught a cold.” Todd announces. Farah groans and collapses into her office chair.

"Dammit, Dirk. We were gonna do paperwork today. It's paperwork day.” Farah ceases massaging her temples and looks at Todd, pleadingly. “Does he at least have his laptop at home?"

Todd gives Dirk’s desk a pointed look and Farah groans upon seeing Dirk's laptop lying on top of a bunch of folders.

"I'm going kill him.” She seems to decide.

"Best not to.” Todd responds, as calmly as he can manage. It's usually pretty hard to tell whether she's joking or not when it comes to death threats. “He's kind of the reason we both have jobs."

"I see that,” Farah says, picking up a pen, in an effort to sort her pens into colour order, again, “yes, _but_ -"

"Excuse me?" Says a new voice and the two of them jump, in surprise. The voice is owned by a man in the doorway, fist raised to knock on the wall. “Am I interrupting something?”

Farah and Todd share a look. “No,” Todd says. “Come on in, how can we help you?”

The man looks to be in his early twenties and pretty skittish. Todd is hoping there won't be a gun this time. They had more than their fair share of guns with Rodney Lewis. He proceeds into the room, and while Todd had hoped the guy would go to Farah and she'd grab his details for the case, he instead goes to Todd.

“Are you Dirk Gently?” The guy asks. Todd can't help but snort.

“Not even a little bit.” He says, closing his laptop and folding his hands over the top of it, hoping to look amicable. “Dirk’s out for today, he's sick, but Farah can take your details and as soon as he's recovered we’ll get right onto it.”

“This is quite urgent, though.” The guy says, getting ever more frantic. “You see, I was under the impression that-”

“Like Todd said,” Farah interrupts, getting up from her chair and crossing over to stand beside Todd. “Dirk isn't available today, but we’d be glad to take your details.”

“You don't understand!” The guy shouts and Todd is quite taken aback with him. “I was told you could help me-”

“And we can't really do that without Dirk.” Farah says, trying to calm the guy, but looking quite out out, herself.

Todd’s phone rings and he picks it up, covering his other ear. “Hello?”

“Todd, fantastic.” Says Dirk on the other end of the line, his blocked nose making his voice sound flatter than usual. “So, uh, one, where do you keep your cereal?”

“Are you in my apartment?” He asks, and though it's not actually that surprising, he allows himself to let a surprised tone enter his voice.

“Come on, Todd.” Dirk laughs and then sneezes. “When am I _not_ in your apartment?”

“Fuck, uh,” Todd glances to Farah who is arguing with the guy. “It's in the cupboard above the sink.”

“Great.” A pause and a bunch of rustling as Dirk goes searching, and then a triumphant _aha!_ “Two, do you have a client there, right now?”

“Yes.” Todd sighs, though the guy isn't much of a compliment client.

“Youngish man with blonde hair and a twitchy eye?” Dirk continues and Todd frowns to himself. How could Dirk possibly know that?

“Yes, how did you know that.” He replies. There's the sound of cereal being poured into a ceramic bowl and then the sound of a spoon in the bowl.

“He's on the news.” Dirk replies, mouth now distorted by cereal. “He's on the run from the police. His name is Adrian Miller.”

Todd pulls the phone away from his face. “Adrian Miller?” He asks the guy.

The guy goes pale. That's answer enough.

Todd puts his phone down, picks up his stapler, and staples Adrian Miller’s tie to his desk. To Farah’s surprised noise he shrugs, and says, “He's wanted by the police.” Todd turns back to his phone. “Is that all?”

“No.” Dirk replies. “There is a third thing. The third thing is Amanda has just arrived, and, Todd, you're never going to believe this, she has blue hair!”

“Yeah, she did that in high school, too.” Todd says, getting up from his desk and walking into the kitchenette to be in a quieter environment.

“Is he dissing me?” Asks Amanda’s faint voice on the other end of the line.

“A little bit.” Dirk replies, muffled, a bit, as if he has his hand over the receiver of the phone, but not properly.

“I'm gonna kill him when he gets home.” Amanda says, cheerily. Todd doesn't doubt it.

“Oh, yes, and Todd, you know how Amanda’s been going around trying to find people who get intuitions from the universe?” Dirk says, excitedly, less muffled now, a little more high pitched.

“Yes?” Todd sighs and watches Mona turn into an exact replica of the stale doughnut on the counter, crumbs and all.

“She found a friend of mine!” Dirk cries. “How great is that?”

“That is great.” He agrees, opening the fridge in an effort to find a doughnut that hasn't been left out. No luck. Of only he'd brought one of Dirk’s impulse pastries. “Hey, Dirk, I need to go, because there's currently a criminal stapled to my desk and I have paperwork to do, so I'll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay.” Dirk doesn't seem phased by the fact that Todd stapled someone to his desk, again, and for that Todd is thankful. “Bye, Todd!”

~

Todd arrives back at his apartment earlier than usual, because Farah gives him the afternoon off to go home and see how Dirk is. Dirk is napping in Todd’s bed when he gets there. Amanda, blue hair and a grey leather jacket on, is sitting on the couch next to a gorgeous woman with dark skin in a green and pink sundress. They're watching TV and eating Todd’s Lucky Charms right out of the box.

“Okay,” Todd says, putting his bag down, upon entering. “What's happening?”

“Todd!” Amanda cries and rushes over. Instead of a hug there's a punch to each of his shoulders. “Took you long enough. We’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Yeah, well, I've been at work, filling out paperwork.” He responds, rubbing his shoulders. He peers over at the woman on the couch. “Hi. I'm Todd.”

“Aea.” She responds, in kind, flashing him her pearly white teeth. “Nice to meet you.”

“She’s a former Blackwing subject.” Amanda explains, smirking to herself. “We picked her up in Nevada about a month ago.”

“It was so dry down there.” Aea comments, shoving a handful of Lucky Charms in her mouth. “It's so wet up here. Is it always this rainy in Seattle?”

“Pretty much permanently, yeah.” Todd tells her.

Her mouth is set in a grimace. “Maybe I should try California.”

“Maybe.” He agrees and turns back to Amanda. “Picked up anyone else?”

She shakes her head. “We’ve found a few people, but we’d only take them with us if they were willing, and so many of them have families and lives and shit.” Amanda laughs a little bit, but there's no real humour in it. “The only reason Aea agreed was because she had nowhere else to go.”

Todd takes a chance and puts a hand on her shoulder. “I'm sure things will turn around.” He says.

And Amanda smiles at him.

“Okay, I think I gotta wake Dirk up, now, because he said to wake him up when you got here.” She says, breaking the moment and crossing over to the lump under Todd's covers.

Dirk wakes with a groan. “My head hurts.” He says.

Amanda tuts, holding her and to his forehead. “You're pretty warm. I think it's time we got you some cold meds.”

“Oh, good, I can take these sheets to the laundromat.” Todd says, helping Amanda get Dirk up out of bed. “Aea do you mind staying here and holding the fort?”

Aea shoots him a thumbs up.

~

Amanda forces them all out and drives them, in Dirk’s car, to the shops so they can buy Dirk proper cold meds and buy ingredients for dinner. Todd stops off to the laundromat to wash his sheets, and then crosses the street to join them.

He finds Dirk in the candy aisle, half asleep, slumped against the trolley. “Hey,” Todd says, shaking him, lightly, by the shoulder. “You don't wanna sleep, here.”

“Amanda bought me some hard drugs.” Dirk says, in response and Todd can't help but laugh.

“Oh yeah?” He says, and peers over Dirk’s shoulder at the assorted junk in the trolley.

“Yeah.” Dirk agrees, and pulls something out of his pocket. “And this.”

“A fork.” Todd says, because that's what it is. He's holding a fork.

“Ah, but this is not just any old fork. No.” Dirk says, and grins. “Watch this.” He pulls at the end with the prongs and the rest of it begins to get longer until he's holding a fork that's about twenty three inches long.

“It's an…extendable fork.” He says, because there's really nothing else to say.

“Yes. Spot on. Nice detecting Todd.” Dirk looks delighted, waving the extended fork around with wild abandon. “Anyway, I have a hunch it will be useful in the future so I bought it while in line at the chemist.”

“The drug store?” Todd says in a voice that says _just checking._

“Yes.” Dirk agrees. “Wonderful.”

“Right.” He says, nodding. “Where’s Amanda?”

“She went to go get that pre-made ravioli from the fridge aisle.” He gestures vaguely to his right with the fork. “She told me to pick out some comfort candy. But I don't know what to buy.”

“Let's just pick up some M&M’s. You like M&M’s.” Todd decides and pulls a few family sized packs off the rack.

“Yes, good plan.” Dirk says, following Todd back to the trolley.

“There's some weird shit in this trolley.” Todd comments, because there truly is.

"Oh, and while we're in the subject, take a look at this cool soda Amanda found for me!" Dirk announces, fishing the strangely shaped bottle out of the shopping trolley. He truly looks out of it, then, Todd notes.

Todd instead turns his attention to the soda bottle in Dirk's hand. "It's not bubbling." He comments, narrowing his eyes at it.

Dirk shrugs, leaning heavily on the trolley, hand drooping. "Maybe it only bubbles when it's cold?" Todd takes the bottle from his hand. "I mean, come on, Todd, how often do you find purple soda?"

Todd stares incredulously at the label, and then at Dirk.

"What?" Dirk asks, looking slightly annoyed.

"...this is dishwashing liquid." Todd says.

"It's what?" Dirk looks more awake, now, but incredibly concerned, as well.

"This is lavender scented dishwashing liquid." He repeats, turning the bottle to show Dirk the label. "You could have drunk this. You could have put this in your mouth. You could have legitimately fucking poisoned yourself."

"Dishwashing liquid?" Dirk repeats under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But Amanda said it was soda."

Todd places the offending bottle on a random shelf and takes Dirk by the arm, leading him away from the store. "We're leaving," he says.

"What about Amanda?" Dirk questions, twisting in Todd's grip to look behind them. "Where is she?"

"Somewhere back there." Todd says, only half-wondering if he should go through with this, dragging Dirk out of the store. "We're leaving her behind."

"Why?" Dirk asks, and halts.

"She actively tried to poison you." Todd points out, pulling Dirk off the curb and back onto the sidewalk.

"It was probably a joke." Dirk says, dismissively. "I don't think that your sister has any reason to actually want me dead."

"Look at yourself, Dirk." He says, and adjusts Dirk's scarf. "You're dead on your feet, practically having contracted the plague. Tell me that if I hadn't told you it was dishwashing liquid you wouldn't have been glanced at the label and drunk it, straight away."

Dirk looks conflicted for a few moments. "...well, you're right. I probably would have drunk it."

Todd sighs in relief and holds Dirk's hand as they cross the road into the parking lot. "We're going home before you eat or drink something that will kill you faster."

~

“It was a joke!” Amanda says, for probably the fourth time, that evening. “I thought he'd take the time to read the bottle and call me out, I never actually wanted to poison him!”

Aea hasn't stopped laughing over it, and Dirk’s on his third bowl of ravioli, the meds having taken affect about fifteen minutes ago. Todd huffs, scrubbing at the third bowl. He’s gonna need Dirk’s, soon.

“C’mon, look at him Amanda. He would have fucking drunk it.” He says, glancing over his shoulder at Dirk, on the couch. “He would've chugged it out of the lid in the parking lot and you wouldn't have been able to stop him.”

“Looks fine to me.” Amanda grumbles, begrudgingly, obviously convinced that Todd is ruining her fun.

“Because he's on cold and flu medicine.” Todd fires back. He doesn't know why he's so worked up about this. It's not like Amanda would have actually let Dirk drink the detergent, at least in purpose. He just feels a little helpless and it's eating him up inside. “Before he looked like he'd risen from the grave.”

“I take offence to that!” Dirk calls from the living room, having, apparently, overheard the conversation.

“It's true!” Todd replies.

“You know you fight like an old married couple, right?” Amanda says, leaning over his shoulder a bit and wrinkling her nose at how dirty the water is.

Todd rolls his eyes. “We do not.” He responds, haughtily.

“You do too.” She shoots right back. “You argue like you've been doing it for years.”

“I-”

“C’mon, Todd.” Amanda sighs, and Todd resigns himself to having to clean up Dirk’s bowl, later, pulling the plug out of the sink. “Look at the big picture.”

“What big picture?” He grumbles, pulling his washing gloves off.

“Your life.” She clarifies, in a low voice, and, for once, her face is clear of joking. “You've been doing so much better since Dirk fell through your window. At least be honest with yourself.”

“Amanda…” Todd says, because he can't think of anything else to say.

“Aea and I are gonna crash in Dirk’s apartment, since it's less infested with disease.” She says, loudly, and claps him on the shoulder. “You can stay with Dirk. Make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit in the middle of the night.”

“You've got a key?” Todd asks as she makes her way to the door, Aea saying a soft goodbye to Dirk before following after Amanda.

“Yep.” She says. “See ya tomorrow, bro.”

~

“Todd?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you come up here?”

“I'll catch your cold. It's a solid no from me.”

“But, Todd…”

“No, Dirk. It's bad enough that you're sick. Farah will lose her shit if I'm out sick, as well.”

“I suppose you're right.”

“I am sometimes.”

“I don't feel quite as shit as before, though.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see how you are, in the morning.”

“Really, I don't feel overly cold or overly warm anymore. And my nose isn't blocked.”

“I get it Dirk. Please try and sleep.”

“Okay.”

~

“Okay, while I am wildly concerned with every other portion of this wonderfully convoluted plan, my main concerns include ‘why am I being the skimpy assistant when Todd is right there?’ And ‘You all know I can't actually do this trick, right?’” Amanda says, blowing a stray strand of blue hair out of her face.

It's only a few days after Dirk’s miraculous recovery, and Todd feels like he has whiplash from how fast he's ended up in a vaguely life-threatening situation. He supposes this is just his life now

Farah shrugs, looking at her phone, as if they're not about to launch one of the biggest charades of their lives, that could possibly be life threatening for Dirk and/or Amanda. She doesn't seem that interested at all in finding out if Marty Silverton really had robbed the biggest bank in Seattle.

Todd frowns. “I take offence to that. Are you saying that I'm regularly skimpy?” He says, folding his arms over his chest.

“Todd, why are you not focusing on the fact that I am about to be dunked into a water tank in front of hundreds of people where I have a minute to undo the chains on my hands before a bucket full of piranhas are dropped into the tank, where they will proceed to eat me?” Amanda questions, looking a bit frenzied beneath the extensively sparkly makeup she messily applied in the car ride over to the theatre.

“You really think we’d let you be eaten by piranhas, Amanda?” Comes Dirk’s voice from behind the curtain in the corner of the dressing room. The unconscious bodies of the magician and assistant who were actually hired for this event are lying on the couch.

Amanda rolls her eyes. “No offence, Dirk, but yes. I do think you'd let me be eaten.”

He scoffs. “You have such little faith in me, Amanda.”

“I have reason.” She retorts. “You have a knack for getting me into situations I don't really enjoy being in, and while, yes, I can't deny your abilities of also getting me out of those situations, you do it at the last minute, and I don't usually come away unscathed.”

“She has a point.” Todd reluctantly agrees. He's not too sure about this whole plan, himself, but there's a lot of money on the line if they can prove that Marty Silverton really orchestrated the robbery. He's quite partial to getting a bigger paycheck.

“I have many.” Amanda says, and bumps their hips together. “Farah, you wanna feed in on this?”

“Not really.” Farah mumbles and continues to type something out on her phone.

“Why?” Todd inquires.

Finally, she looks up, a mildly annoyed look creasing her features. “Because if Amanda chickens out-”

“Hey!” Amanda protests, going a bit red.

“-then _I_ have to wear the skimpy outfit,” Farah continues, gesturing to Amanda’s torso, which is currently covered up with a complimentary bathrobe, “and do the dangerous one-minute-in-a-water-tank-with-piranhas act, and I don't want to.”

“Thanks for that.” Todd sighs, rubbing his face. Farah hums in triumph and goes back to typing on her phone. He narrows his eyes at her. “Who are you texting?”

“Does it matter?” Farah asks, exasperated.

“Kinda.” He says, gesturing around the room. “We’re kinda in a life-or-death situation. Or, at least, Amanda is.”

Farah considers this. She bites her lip. “...Tina.”

Todd supposes he shouldn't be as surprised as he feels. “From Bergsberg?” He prompts, knowing full well she doesn't know any other Tina’s.

“Yeah.” She flushes. “It's not that impossible. We bonded.”

“Okay, fine.” He says, waving away the conversation. “But, can you please focus on staying in the moment and making sure my sister isn't killed?”

“So, _now_ you're worried about me.” Amanda butts in.

“Amanda!” He cries.

“Alright, I'm coming out.” Dirk says and sweeps back the curtain. Todd wants to die.

His suit is mostly black, thankfully, but he's really gone overboard with multicoloured accessories. The inside of the cape is traditional red, his bowtie is yellow, the ribbon on his hat is blue, and his cummerbund is green.

Farah raises her eyebrows at him. Amanda stifles laughter and lifts up her phone to take a picture. Dirk readjusts the cape with his gloved hands. “How do I look?” He asks, cheerily.

Todd puts his face in his hands. They're so going to get caught.

“Honestly, Dirk?” Amanda giggles, her phone audibly taking another picture. “Incredible.”

Dirk grins at her. “Thank you, Amanda.” He says, and Todd wants to separate them.

“Oh, hey, should I get the Rowdies in on this?” Amanda asks, opening the messenger app on her phone. “They can smash the tank if I don't undo the chains in time.”

“While that's a good backup plan, we probably shouldn't.” Todd says, plucking the phone from her hand and placing it on the makeup counter. Amanda glares at him.

“Why?” Dirk asks, moving his arms in a purposeful way that makes his cape whoosh up behind him. Good to know that Todd is executing this complicated case with his baby sister, their distracted bodyguard, and an actual child trapped in the body of an adult.

“If something goes wrong, it has to look like you weren't ready for it to go wrong.” Todd says, and rubs at his face, exhausted. “You're pretending to be professionals, remember?”

“Wouldn't professionals have done risk assessment?” Farah offers up.

“They're cocky?” He says.

She visibly weighs it up. “I'll take it.”

“But, Todd, what if I can't get them undone?” Amanda says, and those were the words he really didn't want to hear out of her mouth. “What if it _does_ go wrong?”

Because he doesn't have an answer. He gives her a sheepish look and says, “...I'll say something nice at your funeral?”

Her expression goes stony. “Okay.” She says and tackles him to the ground.

~

“Okay, but I totally thought you were dead.” Todd says, and Amanda glares at him. Her hair is still damp, and she's neglected to wipe away the makeup that dribbled down her face.

“No thanks to you.” She says, and Farah passes her a mug of hot chocolate. Dirk is in the kitchenette with Mona, Aea, and the Beast, holding a pomegranate and speaking animatedly. “Like, what the fuck did you do to stop me from being trapped in the water tank when they dropped the piranhas?”

“You're saying this as if you _did_ die.” Todd protests.

“I could've!” She retorts, and the other Rowdies, leaning against the windowsill and sitting at Dirk and Todd’s desks, all turn to look at what the commotion is about.

Todd tries to ignore them. “I still don't get how you managed to escape, after the piranhas fell in. There was blood in the water. Even Dirk thought you were dead.”

“Yeah, Drummer, how'd you get out, and then appear in the audience?” Vogel butts in, sitting himself down on the couch next to her.

She grins at him, bumping their shoulders together. “A magician never reveals their secrets.”

“You're not a magician.” Todd points out, ever the party pooper.

“I think after being in a life threatening magic act, I get to call myself a magician.” Amanda says, sipping her hot chocolate and glaring at him over the lip of the mug.

“Drummer’s a magician, now!” Vogel calls out to the room.

“Alright.” Martin agrees. The other Rowdies hum in agreement. Amanda nods, happily, and takes a sip of her hot chocolate.

“Hey, thank you for helping us with the case. We couldn't have done it without you.” Farah says. “Or, we could've, but I would be very unimpressed, and it would've taken Todd much longer to find the money.”

“It’s absolutely no problem.” Amanda responds and proceeds to chug all of her hot chocolate.”

Farah takes the mug back and Amanda gives her a hug.

“Anyway, this is bogus. I'm out.” Amanda says, and the Rowdies take this proclamation as a hint and begin making their exit, the Beast following along with a few grunted gibberish words who. Aea gives Dirk and Mona a tight hug each, and then leaves without another word. Amanda hands Dirk back the blanket they draped over her shoulders once they got back to the office, and kisses him on the cheek. There's only a punch to the shoulder for Todd, but it's better than nothing. Then, she proceeds to the door, sparkly skimpy outfit somehow more intimidating than it first appeared. “See you later, nerds!”

They all stand there for a second.

“I mean at least we got Marty arrested.” Farah says.

“I'm going home.” Todd sighs.

~

Dirk doesn't bother knocking, anymore. Todd doesn't bother getting a new lock for his door.

When Dirk has nightmares about The Facility That Must Not Be Named, he hurries up the stairs and climbs into Todd’s bed, without a word, because it's easier than hovering in the doorway and it's better than waiting for Todd to wake up, just to not tell him anything.

Dirk would like to tell him everything, he really would. He'd like to whisper to Todd across miles and miles of bedsheets how he'd pleaded with them to tell him the truth about if they'd caught his friends, but how he never got a straight answer up until he escaped. He'd like to hear Todd sigh, and say _they couldn't have caught us if they tried_ , just because he knows it'd make Dirk feel better.

He'd like for Todd to reach out across the covers and take his hand, squeeze tightly, and tell him it'll all be okay. He'd like for Todd to hold him close and promise that they'll have hell to pay if they want to get to Dirk again. He'd like for Todd to kiss his fear away.

But, he doesn't. He never does. That's baring too much of his heart to be safe, even to Todd.

He wordlessly slips under the covers, beside him, and wakes up before Todd can, because if he didn't leave Todd’s arms then, asleep, how could he leave them when Todd was awake?

~

Todd honestly, truly hates this case. It's not because they had to leave Farah back in Living Springs, a tiny town with one, run down, motel, or because they're currently trapped in a huge mansion at the bottom of a mountain, or even that they currently have either one or two serial killers after them and the staff of the mansion.

It's because he lost his phone.

This would all be fine if he could call Amanda and have her bring the Rowdy Three up here to cause some havoc, but he lost his phone almost immediately upon arriving. He's probably lost his snapchat streak with Hobbs.

Dirk, on the other hand, seems to be having the time of his life, which is strange, especially considering that they're crouched in a closet in one of the four cellars (yes, this place has _four cellars_ and they all connect through _a series of hidden tunnels_ , Todd is _so fucking sick_ of this case). They lost Elias (the butler) and Celia (the housekeeper) back in the parlour when the lights went out, and, currently, Audrey Mulder, is huddled between the two of them, breathing like she's on the verge of an asthma attack.

She probably is.

“Do you think we lost them?” She whispers to Dirk, hanging onto the sleeve of his “undercover” navy blue coat. It's bright yellow on the inside, so it's not particularly nondescript, in Todd’s opinion. Todd peeks through the keyhole. It is pitch black outside and inside, so there's really no point, but he does it, anyway.

“I think so.” Todd replies.

Audrey hired them back in Seattle to solve the simultaneous deaths of her mother and sister, both of which appeared to be accidents, but occurred so strangely it must have been purposeful. Her sister, Saffron Mulder, was run over by a full shopping trolley on an escalator. Her mother, Dorothy Mulder, drove her car directly into a tree, despite being in the backseat, at the time.

After a series of rather horrible and strange deaths around the agency (such as the lady at the deli and the local piano accordion busker, who were both stabbed to death with trowels) Audrey suggested they retreat to her family’s mansion in Montana to escape the murderers. Farah was a little uneasy about the whole deal, and chose to stay back in Living Springs to go over the details of the case and meet up with Tina, to see if she knew anything. Todd would have liked to stay back. Maybe he wouldn't have lost his phone.

“What if they kill Elias and Celia?” Audrey whispers, sounding utterly terrified.

“There's not really anything we can do about it.” Dirk tells her, a little unsympathetically. Todd supposes he just hasn't seen the way Audrey stares at him with moony eyes.

“Should we really just be sitting here?” She says, turning to Todd. “They might find us.”

Todd considers this. “I think it was hard enough to get into the cellar in the first place.” He says, in return. “Navigating those steps again, in the dark, will be even harder, and will probably alert the killers to where we are.”

He can only just make out Dirk and Audrey’s profiles in the darkness. Dirk is picking at his nails, and every so often Todd gets the flash of yellow from the lining of his jacket. Audrey, on the other hand, keeps looking around, desperately, as if there's something in the closet that might help her out of this situation.

Suddenly, Todd hears a footstep. He hushes them both, quietly, and Audrey turns to ask him what's happening. Todd clamps a hand over her mouth, and listens. Another footstep. A pair of them. He feels his heartbeat quicken, and Audrey’s ragged, laboured breaths against his hand, and hopes to God whoever has made their way down into the cellar doesn't find them.

The footsteps approach, getting louder and louder until Todd thinks there has never been anything louder than those footsteps and his breathing. He slips his hand into his pocket and fits his brass knuckles onto his fingers.

The door is wrenched open and a flashlight is pointed at his face. Todd lets out a yell and punches at the person wielding the flashlight. Elias lets out a cry as he's struck and hits the ground, hard. Celia gasps and rushes to his side. The flashlight goes rolling. Dirk and Audrey scramble to their feet and get out of the closet.

“Ow!” Elias cries as Celia pokes at his cheek. Then he laughs. “Fantastic aim, Todd. Well done.”

“Fuck, I'm so sorry.” Todd says, picking up the flashlight and shining it at the roof to make it easier to see in the room. “I thought you were the killers.”

Elias laughs again, and pushes Celia away, gently. Upon meeting them, Todd had thought they both looked rather young to be working these jobs. They don't look above twenty two, and so, for a while, he _had_ thought they were the killers. Dirk had laughed at this theory, and said they wouldn't put themselves in plain sight.

“But that's the best place to hide.” Todd had said, with a frown.

Dirk had shot him an aghast look. “Is _that_ what that means?”

Nevertheless, Audrey trusts them with her life, and once Dirk had quashed Todd’s fears, he'd come to terms with her abnormally young staff.

Celia helps Elias to his feet and Todd passes him the flashlight. “We came looking for you all. It was a power surge, not someone deliberately turning the lights off.” Celia says, and Audrey throws herself into her housekeepers arms.

“I thought you might be dead!” She cries. Todd thinks Audrey is practically a gothic heroine stuck in a millennial heiress’s body. “I couldn't bear to lose you two!” Elias pats her on the back, affectionately.

“We’re alright, don't worry.” Elias says to her. Then he turns to smile at Dirk and Todd. “We should head upstairs and light some candles, don't you all think?”

Dirk nods, and takes the flashlight from Elias’s hand, leading the way towards the stairs. Todd follows after him, quite quickly, ignoring the soft conversing between Celia and Audrey. Todd bumps his shoulder into Dirk’s. “I always feel like they know something we don't.”

“Who?” Dirk asks, absently, swing the flashlight on the steep staircase.

“Celia and Audrey.” He clarifies. “I feel out of the loop.”

“Well, if it's just them two, then all three of us are out of the loop.” Dirk says, opening the cellar door and peeking out, into the main entryway.

“All _three_ of us?” Todd questions, suddenly confused.

“Of course. You and me and Elias. A legendary threesome.” He pauses, and frowns to himself. “That sounded less gay in my head.” Dirk admits, and shakes his head. “Most overrated thing in the world, a threesome.”

“What?” Todd says, not being able to help the weirded-out shock that comes with such a proclamation, and watches as Elias, Audrey, and Celia all file out of the cellar. “How would you know that?”

“Well,” Dirk sighs, like Todd’s asked him to do the dishes, again, “that's a rather long and embarrassing story, so I won't-”

“Get down on the ground!” Someone shouts as the front doors burst open. Todd immediately tackles Dirk to the floor. Celia does the same to Audrey. Farah stands in the doorway, a huge gun trained directly on Elias. Tina is standing beside her, holding a slightly smaller gun. Farah’s face is scattered with bright green bandaids. There is a singular yellow bandaid in the middle of Tina’s forehead.

“What's happening?” Audrey screams, from below Celia’s protective hold.

“Farah?” Todd calls, and she locks eyes with him.

“If you make one wrong move, I will not hesitate to end you.” She says, and Todd is a bit taken aback, until he sees that she's talking to Elias. Elias’s shocked face turns sly.

“You won't shoot me.” He says to her, affectionate tone gone. “You'd be shooting an innocent civilian.”

Farah sets her mouth into a hard line and stalks right up to him, the barrel of her gun trained against his heart. She clicks the safety off and the smile slips from his face. “Try me, motherfucker.” She says. Upon the absence of a response from him, she glances over at Tina and says, “Cover the other two.”

Todd can't help looking between the two gun wielders. “Get on your knees and put your hands on your head. If you try to run, I will shoot you.” Farah says. Tina repeats this to Audrey and Celia, who comply, wordlessly.

Farah glances at Todd and Dirk, still splayed out on the floor. “Get up, you two. We’re gonna need your help restraining them.”

“ _Restraining_ them?” Dirk asks, shocked. “Farah, what's going on?”

She gapes at them, gun still trained on Elias. “You guys haven't solved the case, yet?”

“No?” Todd says, and winces, because _she_ quite obviously has.

“Oh my god.” Farah murmurs.

“They're real life body snatchers, dude.” Tina calls to them.

“What?” Dirk says.

“Yeah. Well, Audrey isn't. She's kinda the ring leader here. She got Elias and Celia to help her kill off her mother and sister to gain her family fortune.” Todd goes over to help Tina, by putting handcuffs on Celia and the now-weeping Audrey. “Of course, once she found you guys sniffing around the crime scene she knew she had to get rid of you as inconspicuously as possible. She hired Elias and Celia here to possess her housekeeper and butlers bodies to trick you into a false sense of security and kill you. Their real bodies are back at the hotel.”

“How could you possibly know all that?” Elias questions, as Dirk fastens handcuffs on his wrists.

Farah ignores him, continuing to address Dirk and Todd. “They also realised that I was coming along for the ride, so once Tina arrived, they trapped us, subtely, in my motel room, and turned up the heating and all that shit. They were trying to get us to have sex to distract us.” She pauses before saying, “It worked. But then we broke out-”

“I used the underwire from my bra to unlock the door, it was bananas.” Tina says to Todd.

“And upon searching the motel, because we knew we were being conned, we found their real bodies, as well as their very own, custom made soul exchanger.” Farah pulls a device that looks a lot like an alarm clock with some batteries glued to the top out of her messenger bag.

“How did they make that?” Todd asks, hauling Audrey to her feet. Tina does the same to Celia.

“Made a replica?” Farah shrugs, and passes the device to Dirk. “I dunno, it doesn't work the same, they can only put their soul into another person's body, but the persons soul is still there, just squashed in the back where they can't do anything.”

“How is is that you know everything?” Elias asks her, looking almost heartbroken.

“The man who runs the motel ratted you out. You shouldn't have drunkenly spilled the beans to him, the other night.” Farah says to him, smugly. Elias gapes at her. “Anyway, all three of you are under arrest, we have a car waiting to transport you back to the motel where your souls will be replaced in your real bodies and you will go to jail.”

“I never wanted to kill you, Dirk!” Audrey cries and Todd leads her out to the waiting car. “Just Todd and the girl! I thought we could live together-!”

“Shut up, Audrey.” Celia snaps, looking resigned. “It's over.”

They get the three criminals into the car, and Tina gets ready for the half hour drive.

“Where’d you get the guns?” Todd asks.

“The gun shop.” Farah responds, absently.

“There's a gun shop in Living Springs?” Dirk asks.

“Yeah.” She sighs.

“America is a broken place.” Tina informs them all.

“Go and get your stuff from upstairs.” Farah says to them. “Tina will send a car up to get you.”

Todd turns to do this, and then frowns, turning back around. “Real quickly Farah, could you ring my phone?”

She does. It's in Elias’s pocket.

~

"I'm serious." Todd says, and shuts the front door behind them. He never got around to moving house, and no one had ever taken up Dorian's steed of running after Todd with a hammer demanding rent, so Todd went back to live at the Ridgely, somewhat more relaxed, this time. Farah doesn't like coming around there, so she always schedules meetings outside of the office at a café or something. The only reason she ever comes around to his house is when they've gotten blind drunk and she can't be bothered going home.

"What are you serious about?" Dirk responds, already flopped over the back of Todd's sofa, his legs draped over it, eating a cold piece of pizza out of the box left on his coffee table. It's been an eventful night, Todd will admit. It's been an eventful couple of weeks. They just finished up a case - and had to travel all the way to fucking Punxsutawney in the middle of fucking February, too, to figure out if this lady was right about her son being stuck in a time loop like a younger Bill Murray.

She was, surprisingly, right, and it took them approximately three weeks to get both themselves and the lady's son out of the loop.

Needless to say, Todd is never, under any circumstances, going back to Pennsylvania.

"I don't know anything about you!" Todd cries, flopping down next to Dirk and pulling the box away. Dirk's too drunk to actually do anything about Todd also taking the piece of pizza from his hand, as well, except whine about it. "That's at least three weeks old. You don't want to be eating that."

"I'll eat what I want, and die when I need to!" Dirk calls as Todd dumps the box and the remaining, suspicious looking pizza in the bin. It had been three weeks for them, but it had been barely two days for everybody else. And the lady's son wouldn't tell them how long he'd been there.

"Let me know when that works out for you!" Todd says and rubs his face. They had celebrated their arrival back to Seattle with a night of enough drinking to last a lifetime. Thankfully, Todd sobered up on the taxi ride home, wherein he vomited out the window to a soundtrack of the taxi driver groaning and Dirk giggling like a child in the seat next to him.

"You do know stuff about me." Dirk says, as Todd hands him a cup of water. He makes a valiant attempt to drink it and pours half the glass on his face instead. Todd supposes he could blame the fact that he's lying upside down, or that Dirk's perhaps a little drunker than him, but at this point, he's just glad that Dirk's alive. "Like, I'm a detective."

"That's not the kind of thing I meant." Todd sighs, sitting down on the sofa next to Dirk. "I meant, like, do you have a middle name? How old are you? What's your favourite colour?"

At this, Dirk frowns, and goes to take another drink, efficiently pouring the rest of the water on his face, drenching his dress shirts collar. "Oh. That kind of thing you don't know about me." He places the now empty glass on the coffee table, and turns the right way up, only barely avoiding kicking Todd in the face, in the process.

Todd leans in. "Do you have a middle name?"

Dirk scoffs, and Todd's bright mood flickers. "Don't be preposterous, Todd. Middle names are for posers." Good, good. Wake up call. Drunk Dirk is also a mean Dirk. "And I'm thirty-three. I thought you knew that."

"What about your favourite colour?" He's pushing it pretty thin, Todd knows, but he can't help but be curious. He knows next to nothing about his best friend.

"There's an entire wheel and you want me to pick just one?" There's an awful lot of scoffing going on for Dirk, tonight, so there's an awful lot of pushing about to be happening, for Todd. He pushes Dirk off the sofa and Dirk honestly looks more comfortable on the floor. "What about you?"

"What about me?" Todd replies, coyly.

"Do you have a favourite colour?" Now Dirk looks earnest.

Todd allows himself to mull this over, thoroughly. For all the times in grade school that he ever asked the question, for all the icebreakers in middle school, and pen pals in high school, no one ever bothered asking the question back. And he's never actually thought about it. "Blue?"

"Why does that sound like a question?" Dirk asks, inspecting one of Todd's ratty, old throw pillows.

"I've just never thought about it before." He admits. Dirk hums in understanding and an odd sort of silence that isn't quite uncomfortable but isn't exactly pleasant, either, settles over them. Todd just considers nodding off. It seems like a good alternative to sitting there in silence, staring at a TV that isn't even turned on.

"After I got kicked out of college, for a while, I lived on the road." Comes Dirk's sudden voice and Todd jumps. He was honestly nodding off there. He peers off the side of the sofa and down at Dirk who has now placed the throw pillow under his head.

"You got kicked out of college?" Todd asks, and his tongue moves sluggishly in his mouth, slurring his words. "What for?"

Dirk's nose wrinkles and he waves his hands. "No, that's not the story I'm telling. That's probably not a story I'll ever tell." He huffs and folds his arms over his chest. Todd lies down on the sofa, facing Dirk. "So, I was living out of my car, and I decided that I needed to make money, and what's the best way to get money fast while you're travelling somewhat illegally?"

"Rob a bank?" Todd suggests.

More nose-wrinkling. "No! Although, that was probably a better idea than mine." Dirk covers his face with his hands, moaning, "Stupid, stupid Dirk! Always thinking of elaborate plots instead of just robbing banks!"

"What did you do, then?" Todd asks, mildly amused with how emotional and changeable Dirk becomes, once thoroughly intoxicated. Dirk peaks out through a widening gap between his fingers. "If you didn't rob a bank, I mean."

Dirk sits up, quite suddenly, going a bit red in the face, which is a sure sign of his embarrassment, even if he isn't willing to admit it, verbally. "I became an amateur palm reader." He murmurs.

Todd stares for a minute, waiting for this news to be processed properly. "You what?" And bursts into laughter.

Dirk harrumphs. "You didn't let me finish."

"There's more?"

"I did it in full drag."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Well..."

"That's not the point, okay? The point is that I planned to just make shit up and hope that whoever the poor sod I was swindling would believe me.” He sighs, overdramatically. “Unfortunately, the universe always seems to be after me, so I'd always make up the shit that was true. I once offended a lady with her marriage line. Needless to say she came into quite a bit of money a little after that because of my floundering."

"Why?” Todd finds himself asking, for what must be the fifth time, that night.

"The universe just likes to fuck with me, Todd.” Tell number two that Dirk is drunk - total lack of control when it comes to swearing. “Please keep up, it's really not that complicated or elaborate."

Dirk waves a hand that inevitably ends up slapping Todd's cheek. Todd rolls his eyes and pulls Dirk back to his feet, pushing him, by the th go, towards his bed so he can sit down. A thought circles his mind like a shark. "...can you read my palm?" He asks.

"Probably,” Dirk says, and topples onto the bed with a loud whump. “But why on earth would I want to do that?"

"For fun?” Todd suggests. “We just finished a case, we're both reasonably drunk on a Tuesday night and will probably have to go into the office tomorrow to do paperwork so lets have fun while we still can?"

"You make it sound like there's an apocalypse going on." Dirk settles himself down properly on Todd's quilt cover, legs folded criss-cross-applesauce. He takes Todd's hands none too gently and goes about staring at it, like it's a chore. "Alright, let’s see. It's been a while since I've done this, so excuse me if I mess up."

"Mess up while making shit up? At least make me a millionaire!"

"Shut up. Do you want your palm read or not?" Dirk stares until Todd's stopped giggling and then looks back down at his outstretched palm. "Okay. So, first of all, heart line."

Todd watches him sink into it, all the tension falling from his shoulders. He runs a finger across a line below his fingers.

"Yours begins in the middle of your palm which means you fall in love quite easily. It twists and turns, indicating that you have not had a large range of serious relationships and rather rely on trysts and one night stands to try and fill a rather gaping hole in your life. It meets with your life line, meaning that your heart is easily broken." Todd considers stopping the activity altogether. He doesn't like where this is going at all. "However, it becomes less wobbly near the end here, so I think there's a rather serious and committed relationship headed your way."

"That's nice." Todd comments, absently.

"Todd, you're lucky you even have a heart line.” Dirk snorts. “I've met people who haven't."

"Alright, don't lecture me." Todd bumps their elbows together. Dirk raises an eyebrow at him and then looks back down at Todd’s hands.

"Next, head line. You have quite a faint head line, and I'm pretty sure, if I remember correctly, that means you're absent minded and prone to daydreaming. It's long, meaning that you are quite focused on things you're invested in, and while successful, often have the tendency to be selfish.” He hums at something, touching, lightly, at the indent in the skin. “Again, wavy, meaning you have. a short attention span, especially for things you don't care for. You have quite wiggling hand lines. Are you okay? You look a bit pale.” Dirk peers at him, worriedly.

"Just, keep going, okay?” Todd says. “I feel like my life is flashing in front of my eyes."

"Oh dear.” He comments, but goes back to reading Todd’s palm, anyway. “There are small lines crossing over your head line, meaning that important decisions will have to made in order to ensure your fate. Next, life line. That’s this one here.” Dirk traces his index finger over a curved line sectioning his thumb off from the rest of his hand.

“Yours is deep, and short, which is good, because, as I remember it, a short lifeline does not necessarily mean a short life. It just means you’re adventurous. And this break here,” He points to a small gap in the line, and Todd raises a brow, “This indicates an illness or injury. Your Pararibulitis!” He exclaims happily, as though he doesn’t know what the word entails.

Todd sighs, and nods, as if to say ‘keep going’. “Okay, this little branch here,” Dirk points again. “Indicates a major life change. A change in direction.” He grins. “If I were to predict anything I’d say that a British gentleman of rare beauty will climb through your window, and turn your life around.”

Todd laughs. “Haven’t seen any of those. I do have this annoying guy I work with, who did force his way through my window. Any connection?”

Dirk scowls. “There might be. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Wasn’t there a fourth major line, you mentioned?” Todd asks.

“I’m not sure you deserve the privilege of me finishing this reading.”

“Come on. I want you to make me rich.” Todd teases, and Dirk pushes him affectionately.

“Alright, this is your fate line. It is deep and separated up the top, here.” Dirk taps, lightly, at the almost centre of Todd’s palm. “This means your life is strongly controlled by fate, and is led by a lot of external forces. I can only assume this is the universe's effect on you. It meets with your life line in the middle, right here,” another tap, “meaning that you have put aside your wants and needs in the past for others.”

“Amanda.” Todd breathes, feeling too drunk, all of a sudden.

“Sure.” Dirk scoffs, releasing Todd’s hands. “Or me. There was that whole two months you spent searching for me.”

“I went a little insane, I'm not sure you're allowed to play that card.” Todd replies, cheekily.

“I think that was a little rude.” He comments, breezily, seemingly having gotten what he wanted. “I think you have to read my palm to make up for it.”

“I don't know how to read palms.” Todd protests.

“Make some shit up.” Dirk says, waving a hand. “That's what I do.”

And Todd does.

~

There's a sound like a snake hissing, over his head, and then there's water pounding down on his face, so Todd lurches upwards to get away from it. Farah stares down at him, a thoroughly unimpressed look on her face. She twists the knob and the shower turns off.

"Good morning." She says, and crosses her arms over her chest. Todd admits, he'd be wildly more terrified if she hadn't whispered it, hinting at her own legendary hangover. "Sleep well?"

Todd groans, cupping the back of his neck. "Fuck. Why am I in the bathtub?"

"My question exactly." Farah says, leaning back against the sink. "I mean, you seem to have a ginger, slightly-psychic sunshine man splayed out in your bed, disturbingly less dressed than you, but I don't see why you'd choose to sleep in the bathtub when you have a generally alright couch _right there_."

Todd nods, swallowing the vomit that rises in his throat, and pulls himself to his feet, via the edge of the bathtub. "I was really drunk."

"Evidently." They both exit the bathroom, immediately greeted by Dirk, half fallen off the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers, for some reason. "Care to explain that?"

Todd takes in the neatness of Dirk's shoes by the bed, and the way he's draped everything else over the back of the couch. "I think that's all his fault, really."

"Really?" Farah questions, her stern tone going flat.

"Really." Todd assures her. He gestures to himself. “I'm also fully clothed, so I believe nothing happened. There was some weird shit about pizza and then I went onto wikihow to figure out how to read his palm, and he told me I was cheating by doing that, but eh.”

“Sounds exciting.” Her tone doesn't betray anything, so Todd isn't sure whether she's being sarcastic or not. “Why didn't you invite me?”

“Honestly, Farah?” Todd sighs, moving away from the spectacle of Dirk asleep, because it's a rare spectacle to see. “You look like you went to sleep in a dumpster.”

“Well. Thanks for that.” She says, and that's definitely sarcastic. Todd presses a button on the coffee machine and then crosses the kitchen to find a clean mug. “I was meaning to tell you that we have to do paperwork today, but since I know you have your laptop, here, so you can do it at home.”

“Hurrah.” Todd says, resigning himself to doing washing up, today, as he finds a chipped mug at the back of an empty cabinet. “Work from home day.”

“I think we all deserve it.” Farah admits, hopping up on the counter, and beginning to eat the last of Amanda’s store-brand cookies.

“Yeah.” He agrees, putting his mug below the dispenser and pressing another button on the machine.

“I'm just gonna come right out and say it.” Farah mutters, taking a bite of cookie and leaning back against a support beam connected to the counter.

“Huh?” Todd responds, absently.

She sighs, and gives him a very specific look, one he can't quite identify, and says, “You need to get laid.”

“What?” Todd says, because it comes out of the blue, for him.

“Look,” Farah begins, and Todd can just tell this is gonna be _good_ , “you’re an attractive guy, and you've been in a dry spell for at least six months if not longer, so I suggest, as your friend and your coworker who is interested in you being less tense, all of the fucking time, you find someone to make out with, and you do it quickly.”

“Where is this coming from?” Todd exclaims as loudly as he dares with the lingering hangover pressing an ache at the forefront of his mind.

“I was pretty relieved when I thought you and Dirk had slept together, so you can imagine how I felt when it turns out you guys just dicked around.” She admits, and she eats another bite of cookie.

“Dirk? Are you serious?” He says, ignoring how his cheeks must be going red by how warm they feel. “We’re just friends.”

“And I was just your friend before that big road trip across America, wherein we made out behind that Waffle House. If I'm calculating correctly, and you haven't been hiding one night stands, that's got to be the last time you had action, and that was six months ago.” She looks a little awkward at the topic of conversation, too, which Todd is a little glad about, but it doesn't make what she's saying any _less_ awkward. “Your spank bank has gotta be empty by now.”

Todd lets out a nervous laugh and rubs his eyes. “I would appreciate it if you never said ‘spank bank’ ever again.” He says.

“I'm worried for you.” Farah admits, hopping off the counter.

“You're worried for my sex life.” Todd corrects.

“Is that such a bad thing?” She responds.

“It could be!” He says, and winces at his volume. “I could be asexual! I could be abstaining.”

“Okay, one, if you are asexual, I respect that and will back off.” She says, taking on a serious expression. “Two, bullshit you're abstaining. Why the fuck would you abstain? What for?”

“I have not had enough sleep or coffee to deal with this conversation.” Todd mutters and then the coffee machine beeps at him.

“Todd-” She begins, and he holds up a hand as he takes a long sip of scalding coffee.

Once he's done he scowls at her, petulantly. “Why don't _you_ go and have sex with someone?”

Farah puts her hands on her hips and finishes off her cookie. “I have.” She tells him, matter-of-factly.

“Have what.” Todd replies, taking another sip of coffee.

“Had sex with someone. Like, in the last two weeks, not counting the crazy groundhog case time.” She frowns, suddenly. “Question - did we age at all? Should we count those two weeks?”

“Better not.” Todd says, leaning back against his kitchen cabinets. “People would ask why we were celebrating New Years, early.”

“You make a good point.” Farah says.

“You went off topic. Who did you sleep with?”

“Tina.”

“Really? When did that happen?”

“What are you talking about?” Dirk asks from the doorway, wrapped up in Todd’s quilt like the trash lady from Labyrinth.

“Stay out of this Mr. I’ve-Had-A-Threesome-And-It-Wasn’t-That Good-In-My-Opinion.” Todd says, and Dirk scowls at him

“I never confirmed that.” He retorts, accusingly, and pushes his way into the kitchen.

“You didn't have to.” Todd reminds him.

“I'm leaving.” Farah announces, and does just that.

~

The office is empty when Todd arrives and that’s only mildly concerning because Dirk has been known to fall asleep under his desk or on his desk, or in the bathroom, just because he's so exhausted and forgets that humans need sleep to function the same way humans need food and water to function. Todd sometimes wonders if Dirk knows all this.

He sets his messenger bag down next to his desk and sighs, readying himself for a day of paperwork - paperwork he was supposed to do yesterday - and one that he is going to seemingly spend alone.

Except, of course, for Mona. Todd takes a cursory looks around the office, looking for anything out of place or anything that has a twin of it sitting nearby. He stares, worriedly, at the plethora of empty mugs in his desk and leans in, glancing around cautiously. “Mona,” he whispers, “is that you?”

“Why would I want to be a mug?” Says a voice from behind him and Todd jumps so high in the air he could have cleared his desk with no problem. Mona stands in the doorway to the kitchenette holding a mug with a big tablespoon sticking out of it.

“I think we should get you a bell or something.” Todd says, trying to get his heart rate down to something more sensible. Mona giggles and scoops something out of the mug, planting it in her mouth. “What are you eating?”

“It's a mug cookie. Farah left a recipe on the fridge in case I got hungry for something sweet.” She replies, through a mouthful of cookie dough and chocolate chips. It's like no one in Blackwing taught these kids how to properly eat food. Todd is loathe to imagine what kind of a mess she made in the kitchen while making the mug cookie.

“I see.” He comments and gathers the mugs on his desk up, deciding to run a wash of the dirty dishes that are no doubt sitting high on the counter. “Has Dirk been in today?”

“No one’s been in today.” Mona says, and she follows behind him, her tablespoon scraping at the edges of her mug. “I worried that you’d all gone off to Pennsylvania again, without me.”

“Not likely.” Todd snorts and opens to dishwasher. “The next time I'm in Pennsylvania I'll have to be dead, because there's no way I'm stepping foot back in that state, voluntarily.”

Mona giggles, and passes him her mug, nibbling at an overfull spoon of cookie dough. “Dirk told me all about that.” She says.

“Did he?” He questions, all the mugs clinking as he stacks them in the dishwasher. He needs to get one for his apartment, he can't keep forcing Dirk to do his dishes for him. Maybe he'll get one the next time they save an heiress who has nothing against them and is not evil and planning to kill them. They usually pay handsomely.

“Yes. He said that you were there for three weeks. But you were only gone for two days, for me.” She frowns at him, but she looks like a child pretending to frown. Todd often thinks that Mona spent so much time as everything else maybe she never learned how to be herself. “I think that's very talented of you, but you shouldn't do it again.”

“Why?” Todd asks her, regarding the now full top rack of the dishwasher.

“You might begin to miss me.” Mona tells him, matter-of-factly.

He can't help but laugh. “Mona, I'd never survive without you.” He tells her, and at this, she grins. “I do have a question.”

“Yes?” She says, lightly.

“How is it that you've eaten this much cookie dough?” Todd asks, gesturing to all the office mugs, all having been used for Mona’s mug cookie antics.

She hums for a moment, tapping her chin with her spoon. “I don't know. I just got very hungry, and so I ate.” Mona replies. That's about as good as it's going to get, from her, Todd knows this now.

“That's…incredibly ominous, Mona.” He says to her.

“You're right,” she agrees, “but it's the truth.”

Todd sighs. “Okay. You do you.” He heads back out into the office to do his work and Mona turns into a rocking horse, by the window.

~

“I wish Tina hadn't lied to us about this being a case.” Todd says, glumly, shivering in his six layers. They stopped the ski lift. He's sitting in mid air, in the middle of January, on a mountain. "I wish she'd just told us she was forcing us on a holiday."

Farah hums, typing, rapidly, on her phone. “Like you wouldn't have come.”

“I wouldn't have.” Todd tells her, pretending that he's sure of it, and not just terrified of worst case scenarios where they plummet to their deaths. “I've had enough of snowy mountains. I’ve had enough adventures. I want to go home and curl up in bed for a hundred years.”

“Go ahead and fossilise yourself once we get back to Seattle, I'm not gonna stop you.” Farah mutters.

“I'll probably get turned into a human popsicle, at this rate, so fossilisation will not be on the table.” He grumbles, wrapping his arms around his legs to conserve some warmth.

“Too bad.” She says, but it doesn't sound genuine, she just sounds bored. That’s about right.

“How’re you holding up, Dirk?” Todd shouts, and Dirk turns around to look at him.

“Mona turned into an electric blanket for me!” He shouts back, pulling the electric blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“Tell Mona we’re having a serious talk about where her loyalties lie when we get off of the ski lift!” He yells, feeling absolutely frozen solid. This sucks. Why would anyone want to go skiing?

“She can hear you, you know that, don't you?” Dirk calls.

“Farah, will the fall kill me?” Todd asks his companion.

“Almost definitely.” She replies, almost immediately. She looks away from her phone to look down, and gives it a considering look. “If you're lucky you'll just break multiple bones. Death is quite likely.”

“Great.” Todd says, sarcastically. “Do we know why they stopped it?”

“According to Tina there's been a malfunction, they're trying to fix it, but it might take a while.” Farah finally sighs and looks up at him with a tired look. She also looks like coming up for a skiing trip without knowing it was a skiing trip is also weighing on her.

“What am I gonna do with my time?” He asks her, not really expecting an answer.

“You could confess your feelings to Dirk.” Farah suggests, clicking her phone off and sliding it into her jacket pocket.

“What feelings?” Todd deflects.

“Your crush on Dirk?” Farah responds.

“Hell no.”

“Just a suggestion.”

A minute of silence passes. Todd shivers, Farah hums a song they heard in the radio on the way to the ski lodge. Todd clears his throat. “Hey, Dirk?”

“Yes?” Dirk yells back, turning around.

“I think I need to tell you something!” He says, trying not to flinch at Farah’s stare.

“Really.” She says.

“This is down to you.” Todd says, with a sigh.

“You bet your ass it is.” Farah agrees pulling her phone out, again.

“What is it, Todd?” Dirk asks, turned fully around in a way that probably isn't safe.

“It's just…I think I like you!” Todd shouts and then looks down at Farah. She gives him a tired looking thumbs up.

“I would hope so!” Dirk replies, and the tone is quite questioning.

“No, not like that!” Todd tries to self correct and fails, badly.

He can _hear_ Dirk’s confused frown as he says, “What other kind of like is there?”

“The, uh, you know,” Todd struggles for words. “Like, when you have a crush on somebody?”

“You want to _crush_ me?” Dirk cries, aghast.

“No! Goddammit. No, I mean, like…like love! But, less.”

“You…love me?”

“Yes! But, I think I love you like if love had free samples.”

“That is the dumbest description of a crush, ever.” Farah mutters, typing quite quickly on her phone. Todd’s still surprised she has reception up here. “You two are hopeless.”

“Why are you telling me this, now?” It's a very good question. Todd would quite like to lie and say it's because it felt like a good time, since they might be stuck up here long enough to freeze to death. It's not what he says,

“I have nothing to do!” He admits. “It seemed like a good idea!”

Dirk considers this, and then pulls somethin about of his pocket, “I’m going to use my extendable fork to zip line down to you!”

“We might fall off if you do that!” Farah cries, looking alarmed.

“The fork might snap! Don't do that!” Todd calls.

“I'll take my chances!” Dirk yells, extending the fork.

Farah stops dead.“Fuck, Todd, he has Mona!”

“And?” He asks, wondering what she means. And then it hits him. “Oh! Dirk!”

“Don't try to talk me out of this, Todd!”

“No, Dirk, Mona can take you to the ground, and then come and get Farah and me to get us down, too!”

“Oh! Brilliant idea, Todd!” Mona becomes a large amount of helium balloons that gently place Dirk on the ground, and then she does the same for Todd and Farah. It's honestly nerve wracking, but Mona never lets them fall. They all take a minute, once they're in the ground to collect themselves.

“So you have a crush on me?” Dirk says after a minute of straight up eating some of the snow.

“Yes. I do.” Todd says, swallowing thickly. It never occurred to him that this would be even remotely as nerve wracking as having a Mona help him off the ski lift was. “I felt like it needed to be said.”

“Not true. I pushed him to it.” Farah comments from where she has Mona, in electric blanket form, draped over her shoulders. “He was gonna take it to his grave.”

“Farah,” Todd whines, jokingly, “stop ratting me out.”

“Never.” She responds, deadpan.

“I have feelings for you, too.” Dirk admits, going a bit pink in the cheeks, although that might just be the cold.

“Really?” Todd replies, wringing his hands.

“Yes.” He agrees, and then shuffles, awkwardly, staring down at the snow. “What do people usually do in situations like this?”

“Kiss?” He suggests.

He bites his lip at this. “I don't think-”

“We could hold hands.” Todd interrupts.

Dirk grins, “That I can do.” And so they hold hands and trudge up the mountain, hoping Tina never brings them to the mountains in Montana under false pretences ever again. And it's nice. It's good. It's definitely more than okay.

Todd is happy.

  
**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and kudos, let me know what you think of this, and hmu on Tumblr @nose-coffee
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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